


Kiss Me Blake

by ChaoticEther



Series: Dance Dance Remnalution [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Mild Gore, Mild Smut, There's a car crash so uh yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticEther/pseuds/ChaoticEther
Summary: Yang goes to check out the latest applicant for an opening at Beacon Dance Academy, only to find Blake Belladonna mid-performance.





	1. All That Matters

_She’s a maniac, maniac on the floor!  
And she’s dancing like she’s never danced before!_

Yang was enrapt in the new girl’s performance. The delicate corrections to her balance contrasted heavily with how sharp and punctuated each pirouette was. Miniskirt flaring outwards and showing off more of the black, skintight knee-length shorts below them before accenting a stop with an outstretched leg. Faster still, shifting her entire body to meet it and kicking almost straight up. Even watching was making the poor girl’s heart race. She could see every toned inch of Blake’s legs, muscles tensed as she held the position for a little longer than reasonably possible, at least for anyone else. Arms outstretched, the faunus spun three times to return to her initial position, begging Yang to alternate between watching her chest steal its last few breaths for the finale, and her shoulder blades as she brought her arms down, dropping to all fours with knees tucked against her chest as the song hit its final beat. The blonde was just about to leave the hall and compose herself when a hand landed square on her shoulder.  
“So do your eyes glow red watching everyone in the school dance? Or just me?” Blake teased; she wasn’t exactly new to this.  
“I… Uhhh- I’m…” Yang spluttered, pleading with her eyes not to glance down at the stranger’s glistening form. Pleas that went unheard, however, as she hoped the look went unnoticed. The faunus’ ears pricked slightly, golden irises noting their brief freedom from a lilac prison.  
“I’ll tell you what; you step outside for however long you need, and you call _this_ if you want anything.” She stuffed a folded piece of paper into the taller girl’s breast pocket, tapping it twice and smiling as sugar-sweet as someone who’s just danced for four straight minutes could ever possibly smile. Yang was still doubled over outside the hall by the time Ruby came to meet her, several minutes later.  
“You okay, sis?” The younger sister questioned, slightly concerned.  
“I’m fine. Just… A lot more into girl than even _I_ thought possible.” She joked, still trying to calm herself down.  
“Girl singular?”  
“You’ll see. She definitely got the place.”

Yang wasn’t entirely sure why her blood boiled the next time she saw Blake. _Of course,_ Ruby would talk to Summer about this. Of course, she’d listen because it’s impossible to say no to that girl. Now her and Blake were in the same class together at least once a day.  
“What do you want?” Hatred. A bold reason, given the fact she was already checking out Blake’s outfit for the day, tracing its neckline as deep as she dared before being drawn to her exposed midriff, all abs and a single, uniform scar running beside them and below a pair of black skinny jeans. But the truth is, dislike was the only way she could even squeeze words out of her throat around the faunus. Any other emotion and the blushing set in, suffocating despite breathing perfectly normally.  
“I just wanted to know if the seat beside you was taken?” Yang couldn’t tell if Blake was ignoring her anger or being sweet just to spite it. Before the blonde could even answer, her new classmate was calmly unpacking her things, reading a light novel to pass the last few minutes before the lesson started. How she managed to be so unaware of the looks she garnered was a feat in and of itself, never mind the endless line of guys constantly trying to impress her. Blake looked back across the classroom and out of the window, dragging her eyes down slowly to meet Yang’s as a smirk flickered across her face. There was only one person in the school she was after, and that girl hated her guts. At least on the outside. Yang rummaged in her bag for a few seconds before pulling out the note with Blake’s number scrawled on it. She even had to be angry to look at her writing, critiquing every small part of it from the shape of the numbers to the heart at the end being lopsided. The droning of the choreography lesson faded to static as she delicately wrote a reply on the back.  
_I think you’ll want this back. I won’t be using it anyway._  
She opted to omit the revelation that the number would be forever etched into her brain, passing it across to Blake as the class filed out. After all, her ballroom class had a rehearsal scheduled today.

Another semester, another performance where she has to sit out or be a lead. Neptune and Sun don’t even have the balls to try. Ren’s only here because of Nora, leaving Jaune. And there’s no way he’s getting close to lifting her. Lift Jaune, or perform solo and miss out on the evening again? Jaune’s face was begging for her to choose the latter.  
“I’ll do it.” A pleasantly seductive voice that sent a chill down the blonde’s spine.  
“ _What?_ ” She snarled, eyes turning that oh-so-familiar crimson.  
“Miss Belladonna-? Are you sure?” The pale-haired teacher spoke up. Glynda Goodwitch. A consummate professional by every possible measure.  
“Yeah. I can lead. For Yang, at least.” Blake aimed a wink in the young dancer’s general direction. Only to be met with several more looks that begged the question, _are you sure?_ As if to assuage any doubts, her heels clacked against the hardwood floor as she crossed the hall and lifted herself up onto the stage, ever-present grin widening further while she coerced Yang into a starting position for a lift. After all, it’s not her new partner’s fault she looks _so fucking hot_ giving burning red daggers. That’s just a bonus, especially from this close. Now wasn’t the time to be imagining such things anyway, with Blake taking a breath to steady herself, throwing the taller girl into the air effortlessly, in every lift the show needed to boot.

Perhaps it’s because of her showing off that Yang finds her later that night, practically pinning her to a wall before questioning her. An almost sickening confidence that the former couldn’t even hope to match. Now, with Blake taking up her entire field of view, she felt her breath catch even underneath the faux-anger. So close that the barely-perceptible scent of her perfume was all she could smell. There was no way she could stay angry at such an experience. It took a few seconds, but Yang finally managed to wrestle away from the vitriol already formed in her mouth, blood-red calming back to lilac. She had to look away in order to speak, else the words be lost amidst thoughts of Blake’s mouth on hers.  
“Why did you-?”  
“I… Was trying to help.” Her confidence broke, albeit slightly. Clearing her throat once, she clearly regained whatever she’d lost upon Yang approaching her. “Do you not want me to? I can tell Goodwitch you’ve agreed to lead for Jaune if you’re that hell-bent on refusing to partner with me,” the faunus chuckled, well aware of the fact that she had Yang on the ropes. “My place. Extra practice. Tomorrow. I’ll move the couch up against the wall special for you!” She quipped, pulling up a map to her place on her phone and showing it to Yang. If her hunch was right, she’d be able to memorise it anyway. No one just hands a number back without committing it to memory or saving it, and she didn’t see her save it.

_You don’t say you love me, you just bite your lip.  
I can read the signals from a mile away, I know she is on your mind and that’s okay._

All subtlety was thrown out the window when she heard that song blasting from the other end of the hallway. And yet, she was insisting on there being nothing between the pair. Well, nothing besides animosity at least. Yang fiddled awkwardly with the high neck of the auburn dress she’d have to get used to wearing for the performance; leading did have its perks, and the suit was one of them. It’s a small miracle Blake even heard the three quick taps on the door over the music, unlatching the door and opening it, filling an empty void where it once stood. In a suit. Beautifully coloured to match her usual style, deep violet jacket and bowtie resting on midnight blue shirt and trousers. Giving her no time to be frustrated, the faunus pulled her partner into the routine, stepping in a perfect tango to the music, almost in sync even without rehearsing. One misstep was all it took for Yang to be dragged out of her concentration and back to the reality of dancing with a woman she supposedly despised.  
“You really can’t get anything right, huh?” She snapped, in stark contrast to the music still pumping around them.  
“And here I thought you were starting to like me,” Blake retorted, treating the shouting match almost like a game.  
“How could _anyone_ like someone as… as insufferable as you! You’re always confident, you walk around like you own the fucking school, and you’re a show-off!” There was a certain hollowness to the insults, giving away that even she didn’t really believe them. The line between infuriation and infatuation blurred and warped as the argument continued,  
“Just admit you love this already. You like the competition.” The pair were standing well away from each other by now, still straining to be heard over the music. “Guys don’t get to see this side of you, do they?” That was it. Blake had Yang pinned from the start. Always receiving attention, never from the right source. Now that she was getting it, she had no idea how to react. Anger is always the way out. But, with just the right conditions…  
Yang was mere seconds away from grabbing her coat and storming out, when she found herself in a familiar situation. Blake’s hand on her shoulder. Spinning around until their eyes locked. Being pushed against the wall, so unexpectedly her eyes jumped back to lilac in a blink. More than just their eyes locking. Yang’s tongue sang a completely different tune to her words, running over Blake’s bottom lip and waiting for her to return the gesture before leaning further into the kiss. The faunus’ hand trailed up the exposed side of her partner’s leg, ears lowering as she focused more and more on the woman locking legs with hers, stopping her from pulling away even if she wanted to. Only when a hand moved from her back to her chest did Blake stop, removing herself delicately from Yang’s personal space.  
“I’m sorry. That was way too forward of me, I didn’t even stop to think if you were okay with-”  
“It’s-it’s not that, I wanted it too, I just…” The blonde still couldn’t bring herself to say the right words. _I fucking love you, Blake Belladonna._ “I really do hate people like you.”  
“Well, people like me will be seeing you in class again tomorrow.” Her dancing partner was already letting her hair out of its ponytail for the night, merely offering a half-assed wave to the young dancer’s back as she left for home.

“Ya know, maybe everyone’d have an easier time believing how ‘mad’ you are at the new girl if you didn’t talk about her so damn much!” Sun exclaimed, just loud enough for the whole school to hear. He had a point. Even at the mere mention of her name, Yang would be compelled by some unseen force to talk about how annoying she was. How all she did was toy with people, that she never shut up about this or that. Of course, the act only fooled herself, a truth both Ruby and Weiss confirmed to him a few days ago. He’d thought he had a shot with Belladonna. For a few seconds, at least. That girl only had eyes for Yang, but goddamn was she good at getting under anyone’s skin. Finding out _exactly_ what made them tick, and taunting them with a look they’d never receive again.  
“Easy for you to say. She doesn’t look at you like she wants your head buried between her legs every waking moment.” Yang replied, deadpan.  
“You make it sound like a punishment!” The monkey faunus jabbed, standing to attention outside Yang’s classroom door as a goodbye.  
“That’s your _one_ for the rest of the year, Sun.” Her blonde locks disappearing around the side of the door signalling the end of the conversation. Pulling out his phone, Sun checked the time before jumping a little, already almost late for his date with Neptune.

Even after their last encounter, blood-red still filled Yang’s irises whenever Blake spoke. There was no rationale to it any more, if there ever was. Now its only purpose is burying lustful glares. Stopping her mind right on the edge of “too far,” peering down the chasm of potential ecstasy that she daren’t let herself jump into for fear of never being able to return. Blake’s hair held taught in her hand. Heavy, panting breaths against her collarbone as her pulse raced across the surface of her neck, each shot bringing more pleasure. Yang was slipping.  
“Huh? Sure.” Well, at least it wasn’t “I love you,” but it took her a moment to realise exactly what she’d said yes to. Weiss perched delicately on her desk, beaming at the agreement.  
“I thought you might say no since we invited Blake, but if you’re cool with it, then-”  
“I’ll be there.” Direct and to the point. After all, she was too busy thinking about other things to focus on talking. Like what Blake would be wearing at the bar tonight. Unfortunately, she was interrupted by what Blake was wearing presently, white jeans clashing against a black blouse, unbuttoned one more than was probably socially acceptable. Naturally, she didn’t mind, and neither did Yang, fighting the urge to smirk in response to a polite wave from her dance partner, burying it under a scowl and looking out of the window at the sunset, bathing her in a golden glow almost the same colour as her hair. Blake, unrestrained by her glare, finally let her cheeks flush red at the sight. It was love. Not that she’d ever let on to Yang that’s what it was. Not until Yang caved and admitted she wanted her too. Somewhat jokingly, the raven-haired woman set a timer on her phone for an hour after they were all supposed to meet up at the club. A generous overestimate, just in case Yang got cold feet. She stifled a laugh at her own humour, though not very well, judging by her target’s exasperated sigh.

_It’s not my fault she looked at me!  
It’s not your fault you can’t compete!_

Exactly thirty minutes left on the timer. Blake was worried she might not even show up at all, cradling a glass of scotch at the bar and digging a hand into her leather jacket to check the time again, despite doing so only moments before. It kept the guys away, looking like she was waiting. Weiss had pulled Ruby away into a dimly lit corner, and Sun did his best to keep Yang’s seat warm doing shots with Jaune. “Blonde solidarity,” or something like that. There was only one blonde the faunus was waiting for, and she just walked in, legs almost on full display save for the stonewashed denim shorts; a loose, low-cut t-shirt tucked neatly into them. For now, anyway. She tried her best to seem like she was scoping the place out, but anyone could catch her gaze lingering longer on the set of cat ears at the bar before scanning the remainder of the room quickly and making her way across the dancefloor, black knee-length lace-up boots giving her a few inches on most of the patrons. Vaulting onto the seat beside her, Yang quickly ordered a few shots in the hope it’d make Blake’s constant assault on the eyes a little easier for the rest of the night. Something about those golden eyes always looked so collected, even in the heat of the moment, her only clear memory of the night a few days ago. Staring into them before losing focus. Even now, when she’s sure Blake’s a few drinks deep, those goddamn eyes burn a hole straight to her heart. It’s when she gets up to dance, frustrated with sitting in silence, that Blake finally makes a move. Twenty-five minutes left. Losing herself in the cadence, Yang feels a slender pair of hands working their way around her stomach from behind. She’s acutely aware of her skin warming to their touch; even her very blood is attracted to the faunus slowly pressing herself against her back, slipping a hand under her shirt. Turning. At long last, violet meets ochre. With her top halfway up her torso. Blake doesn’t go for her lips, wanting as they may be. The pressure on her neck steals an inhale, followed by a breathless “ _fuck,”_ unheard over the club’s music save for the reverberations in her own head, Blake’s eyes coming back into view as she revels in the small pulses of pleasure, for real this time. Releasing her shirt, the faunus wrapped a hand around Yang’s waist, guiding her through the crowd and out into the night chill. Twenty minutes left.

The blonde’s back was already arching by the time they walked through the door as Blake placed several more kisses onto her neck, slowly working her way down past her collarbone, stopping briefly to throw her clothes onto the floor. Yang was powerless to resist. Scenes she’d only just managed to tear herself away from were happening right in front of her. Resting one arm against the wall for support, the other finding its way onto Blake’s shoulder blade and digging in.  
“ _Finally she gets it._ ” Blake whispered into Yang’s inner thigh, the dulcet tones standing out amongst her rapid gasps before standing back up and using her free hand to point Yang’s chin towards her, letting their lips meet and her tongue trace the blonde’s mouth. In what could only be described as a practiced motion at this point, her partner pushed her into the wall, running a hand over the fresh red marks down her body, breath hitching at every one when her blood raced to meet Blake’s touch. As her hand finally curved inwards, something told her she wouldn’t be needing the timer any more.  
“Still hate me now?” She sighed into Yang’s ear,  
“ _God, no_ ”

“Coffee?” It was muffled by the door between them, but Yang’s groan of acceptance was received loud-and-clear. The rest of the night was a haze, but she definitely enjoyed herself. Letting light stream in from the hallway, Blake placed herself on the bed beside the mess of golden hair burying its face into her pillow, trying desperately to forget they had class soon.  
“Don’t you ever get tired?” She asked, groggily.  
“Wanna find out?” her… everything partner retorted, lowering her eyes and biting the corner of her lip. Reluctantly, Yang pulled herself up and her hair into a loose ponytail, tucking the remaining strands behind her ears while she sipped the coffee from the table on her side of the bed.  
“Where are my clothes?”  
“Everything except the boots are in the wash. Looks like you’re stuck wearing something of mine!” the faunus laughed, searching through a hamper and tossing a plain grey tank top along with a pair of ripped jeans squarely into her lap. “It might be… a little snug on you. But we can practice in them!”  
“ _Practice!?_ Of all the days to be wearing _these_ ” the blonde gestured at her boots, standing up and taking the tank top with her. Blake blushed a little at seeing the girl’s midriff. Not because she hadn’t seen even more just last night, but because of how well it suited her. How she hadn’t been wearing outfits like that of her own choosing beggared belief. If it were anyone else, both of them would have been embarrassed about all the looks they got for holding hands even on the short walk from Blake’s apartment to the school. Blake didn’t have to say it to find out how she felt. That slightly-too-cocky smile spoke volumes.

“Finally~!” Ruby shouted, after hearing the vague details from her sister. Leaning herself against her locker, she half-squeezed, half-hugged her books to try and get rid of the excess excitement. “I’ve _got_ to tell you what happened with Weiss and I, it’s-oh, I think a certain someone wants you. I’ll see you after practice, ‘kay?” Her boundless energy seeped into her speech, nodding over Yang’s shoulder before turning to run home. Blake rested casually on a nearby windowsill, stealing the occasional glance at Yang inbetween turning pages of her book. Sensing a slightly imposing figure in front of her, she looked up only to be kissed on the nose by Yang, ears pricking as a smile tugged at her features.  
“Rehearsal?” Blake questioned, almost to reassure herself.  
“Rehearsal.”  
_I met this angel, she taught me to fly_  
Yeah, she showed me all the colours of the sky  
So please, don’t take her away, but if you do, I’m just skin and bones I know that there’s room.  
Compared to last night, their dance was almost excruciatingly slow. Even Goodwitch’s usual barking of corrections was absent. It’d be flawless if they weren’t giggling the whole time. Yang’s eyes darted around Blake’s figure; watching her muscles tense in preparation for a lift, catching the slight red tint on her face and the quick glances to her own chest. Only when the song finishes do they even process the other pairs just… watching them. Sure, they were all good, but it seemed as though Blake and Yang had something everyone else didn’t. Sex. Or love. One of those two, depending on who you asked and when. Glynda’s hands clapping together dragged everyone out of their reverie as she spoke up, barely looking away from her phone,  
“Well, that’s your last rehearsal before the show. I wish you all the best of luck this weekend.”

_At least it’s all about you, I think the blondes are done with fun  
At least it’s all about you, I think the blondes are done, we’re all too cool for fun!_

“ _No_ straying from the choreography, is that clear? I’m looking at you, Sun.” Goodwitch’s pre-show pep-talks were about as inspiring as always. A series of somewhat positive remarks punctuated with lists of what she’d do to the students if they so much as dared to differ from her “perfect” piece. The pair shared a knowing look after she singled out Sun. Blake’s idea. At least, that’s what Yang had convinced herself happened. “It’ll be fun to see the look on her face!” Blake said, skimming over the fact they’d hardly mastered the act behind closed doors. Kissing on the final beat of the song? That may well get them murdered. The shorter lead fixed her bowtie before offering her hand to Yang, beautiful as always in a yellow tango dress, and taking their place at centre stage. A series of curt steps to the left, snapping their heads towards each other and then back in the direction they were travelling, Yang twisting and lowering on one leg while keeping the other outstretched. Blake breathing into Yang’s neck as she gently extended her follow’s arm before a quick spin and low jump to trade positions. Bouncing her into the air while she kicked her legs and jumped into a split. It all reached a climax as Yang wrapped a leg around Blake’s slightly crouched form, twisting around her once again before leaning back into the dark-haired girl’s awaiting arm. She winked, and Blake lifted her slightly to properly reach. The finishing touch that sent the audience into rapturous applause. Including Summer, who _may_ have suggested the idea to Raven, who in turn proposed it to Blake during her meeting with the guidance counsellor.  
“I fucking love you, Blake Belladonna.”  
“I fucking love _you,_ Yang Rose-Branwen.”


	2. Nobody Puts Blakey in a Corner

_So long live the car crash hearts,  
Cry on the couch all the poets come to life, fix me i-_

“Getupgetup _get up_!” Blake pleads into Yang’s shoulder as she wrestles the blonde free of the driver’s side. Her arm is crushed and mangled beyond belief, but she’s _free._ The overwhelming stench of petrol makes her throat burn and she stifles a gag before it can form. Getting Yang away from the potential explosion is all that matters right now. Blood runs into her mouth, flavouring her desperation with copper undertones. _She can’t be gone. Not now. Not ever._  
“ _Yang!_ Yang please, we have to go!” She whispers into her girlfriend’s ear, so softly she may as well be a china doll. When her attempt fails, she begins pulling at the straps of her dress, trying to shake consciousness back into the limp form underneath her. There’re still breaths, but they’re light, desperate, sucking colour from Blake’s face as it collapses onto hers. Nothing else has worked, she reasons; perhaps true love’s kiss might break the spell. “I love you. If you’re gone, I’ll never be able to stop! And that’s not fair. So please. Do this for me. I’ll save you all my dances, just… Get the fuck back here!”  
“So, Blake.” The past she’d buried in a shallow grave snarled, walking towards her from the other car. “Have you made your choice yet? It looks like I’ll need a new dancer for my show.” Adam’s words dragged through her mind like nails down a blackboard, each one knotting her stomach tighter than she thought possible. All she knew is that she didn’t want to go back. She _couldn’t_ go back. She looked towards Yang’s features once again, dangerous, yet in this moment so fragile they might break if breathed upon, hair matted by blood that just wouldn’t stop pouring from the shards of glass embedded into the side of her face. A glimpse of beauty tormented by the chaos Adam always seemed to drag around. _Her_ Beauty, pushed to the brink of death by her Beast.

Yang smirked in the chair as she waited for Summer to come back. A smugness that only comes with thoroughly embarrassing your taskmaster of a ballroom teacher by kissing your girlfriend. _Girlfriend._ The shape of the word sat comfortably in her mouth whenever she talked about Blake, summoning forth memories of how she tasted, forever associated with hard liquor or vodka-cranberries after their first night together. Linked to the brilliant gold looking up at her, catching the moonlight in a way it seemed only she knew the secret to. How she never wanted anyone, any _thing_ more than she did the faunus perched in the chair beside her, also grinning proudly. Straining, the pair stole a short kiss in the hopes it would shorten the wait. Only to be jolted back upright as a cough announced someone’s presence behind them. Short, but imposing. Her presence filled the room, just like her daughter’s. Yet the energy was different, commanding, with a gentle undertone.  
“Blake. You can go. Provided you don’t pull a stunt like that again in school.” Blake was halfway out of the door when she tacked on, “I’m happy you found someone.” All attention was now directed squarely at Yang, silver eyes piercing the veil of feigned indifference, reading her heart like a novel everyone should study as a classic. For Blake Belladonna? Summer was quite happy to drop down a place in Yang’s priorities. She really did look like Raven when she was in love. From the constant smile fighting against her otherwise serious expression, to the way her features softened whenever the girl crossed her mind.  
“And you said moving out wouldn’t do you any good.” She joked, dryly.  
“She’s excellent, not just _good_ , Mum.” Yang replied, relaxing into the chair a little more.  
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second. Just… Bring her over sometime. Let us meet her when it’s not because of you causing a scene.” Her body language indicated she had nothing more to say, shooing the blonde out of the office and back to her partner.

_So, turn the lights off, and get closer to me  
I want to overdose, on the air you breathe_

They can’t even celebrate together without dancing a little. Quick steps, then a slow one, as they danced around the living room of Blake’s apartment. Even the music faded to nothingness in each other’s company, senses filled with their partner’s presence. Yang’s arm lowered from Blake’s shoulder to her hip, pulling her closer. Giggling into her midnight-black hair, shifting the mood slightly with a kiss to the neck, breath rushing down her girlfriend’s back when she backed away as much as she dared. It felt wrong, not being as close to her as possible; like there should never be any distance between them, no matter how small. Another fleeting taste of all things indulgent as Blake initiated, pulling on her dress to compensate for the extra height of heels compared to flats. All pretence of the performance slipped, desire filling the space between. A dress unzips, a shirt unbuttons; the hand on Blake’s waist unfastens her pants, stopping only to allow the dress to fall freely to the floor and allow her to advance.  
“ _Fuck, Blake”_ The breathy, lustful voice escapes and falls into a moan, without resistance amidst stolen gasps, legs buckling slightly into Blake’s thigh as her fingers curl.  
“Do it, don’t say it” she replies, almost in a daring tone, most of the vibrations lost to Yang’s collarbone and intermingled with the scent of eucalyptus. The pressure releases, with her girlfriend leading her to the bedroom. Blake poses on the bed mockingly, laughing so hard the entire room lights up. A hand on her chin quells the amusement, challenges their lips to meet before a delicate touch traces from her neck to her sternum, pausing, taking in the rises and falls. How the pattern changes, grows chaotic with pleasure as Blake grabs at Yang’s shoulder, composure willingly dissipating into grasped covers and bitten lips.  
“I taught you well- _Hah”_ The end of the sentence is lost to their motions, unable to concentrate on much else. It’s only when the warmth of the sun rouses her that she’s able to complete the sentiment,  
“And you thought I wouldn’t let you have a little control every once in a while~” Blake can see the corner of a smile peeking out from Yang’s face pressed firmly into ‘her’ pillow, still slightly dazed herself.  
“If you’ve pulled _any_ hair out you’re dead to me.” She says it into the bedding, laughter betraying her words.  
“Oh, don’t worry. I was gentle, remember?” A light jab, courtesy of her girlfriend, is all the thanks she gets. It’s the weekend, so they don’t have to be anywhere, but Yang is already waiting by the door when Blake suggests checking up on Ruby.

“You and Weiss, huh?” Blake’s assault begins before she’s even stepped into the Rose-Xiao-Long apartment, much to Yang’s amusement.  
“H-how did you-?” Ruby stammers, face flushing to match her hoodie as she retreats back into it.  
“Well… You didn’t do a particularly good job of hiding those hickeys, for a start.” Yang threw an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her close as she looked down and smiled at the girl’s genius plan.  
“B-but we didn’t do- Oh.” The realisation came far too late, with the younger sister gingerly opening her bedroom door and allowing an equally red-faced Weiss to slink out, dressed in the same shirt and pants she was wearing to the show last night. “How did you really know?”  
“Rule one of the ‘sneaking girls around’ handbook: _Don’t leave their shoes on display.”_ The faunus mocked, kicking off her own before taking any more steps inside. Compared to her place, it was much more like a home. Framed photographs of them hung on practically every wall, obscuring the cream colour they couldn’t change on threat of being kicked out as best they could. Even after five minutes it felt like home. Her gaze slowly dragged itself back to Yang, catching a brief glimpse of her phone’s lock screen before she started scrolling through notification after notification; asking for schoolwork or asking who the girl she kissed on stage was, mostly. It was a photo she hadn’t seen before, with the sunset dancing through her hair and face partly visible behind strands of black. A contented smile crept onto her face before she could make any attempt to resist or argue with it as her eyes flicked back up to the blonde’s face. Even Ruby could tell they were smitten. Weiss had brought it up a few times; an attempt to fill the empty air between the two, though she’d dismiss any claim she cared in a heartbeat. But, right now, with no one watching, she finally let her approval shine. At least, she thought no one was watching. The elbow digging into her side lets her know Ruby definitely is. A shared look is all they need to communicate exactly what they’re both thinking. _Fucking hell they’re in love._ All they can do is laugh; after all, it’s not every day someone manages to piss off Goodwitch and live to tell the tale. And look _that_ good doing it.  
“Huh.” Yang’s inquisitive tone broke through the atmosphere easily. “Any of you heard of ‘White Fang’? The school sent me an email saying they’re looking for backing dancers.” Looking up from her phone and seeing confused faces, Yang began the description reading directly:  
_An interpretive spectacle, combining several types of dance into a brutal and honest depiction of the harm done by abusive relationships. Thought-provoking, haunting, and a true display of talent thanks to the multitude of incorporated styles. All interested parties please click on the link below._  
“Are you gonna audition?” Another voice cuts through the silence, this time it’s Blake’s. Concerned isn’t the word to describe her tone, but it’s definitely uneasy, like the few sentences dredged up memories she’d rather forget.  
“I probably should. For my ‘career’ or whatever.” Yang doesn’t acknowledge the shift in her voice, but she makes sure to lock eyes with Blake and beam a reassuring smile, so wide it practically swallows her doubts entirely.

“Get away from her.” Yang sneers at the figure, rising to meet his stature. She feels every beat, every breath, burning themselves into what remains of her arm, the few nerves remaining sending nothing but searing pain down its length. That doesn’t matter now. The gleaming red sears itself into his mind as he raises the handgun, prepared to end it all for the both of them. She doesn’t care. Why would she? Her life is a low price to pay for Blake’s survival. Another look down at the barely-conscious figure at her feet. Adam is responsible for this.  
“Are you really willing to die trying to protect her? You think that will stop her being with _me?”_ Adam growls, lining up a shot. She may be ready to die, but she’s not stupid. He can barely hold the gun, let alone fire it where he wants.  
“Blake won’t be with you. You stalked her all this time, for what? For _love?_ So, you could rub your success in her face? She doesn’t care, Adam.” She spits blood upon saying his name, almost laughing at the circumstance were it not for the pain in her arm keeping her mouth clamped shut to cope. Her toying with him bought them time, enough for the fuel of the car to ignite and throw him into an alleyway. Yang’s knees give out beside Blake’s head, ignoring the metallic taste as their lips meet, reassuring her that she’s still with her, that she hasn’t left her alone.  
“I’m here. With you.”

Blake does what she’s always done when her problems catch up with her. A bag full of the few clothes Yang hasn’t worn. Tickets to the middle of nowhere. She contemplates stuffing a picture of herself and Yang into the bag before leaving it back on the mantlepiece. The place just doesn’t look right without it there now. It’s not “home” any more, it’s tainted. The shadows leech further into the room than they ever did even when she lived by herself, and she’s worried Adam might come leaping out of any one of them. Throwing one strap over her shoulder, she unlocks the door and gives the apartment one last look only to jump at the sight of Ruby in the doorway, happy as ever.  
“Where are you going, Blake?” She questions, almost dismissing the possibility of it actually happening already.  
“…Away. You saw what happened to Yang, to her arm. I can’t stay here knowing any of you are in danger.” Blake’s voice has lost all emotion since the accident. Like Yang stole it from her despite currently clinging to life in a hospital bed.  
“I saw my sister doing what she always does. Telling you just how much she loves you. She’d do it again if she had to. Over, and over, and over again.” There’s no tears forthcoming from the younger girl, just the truth.  
“Then why didn’t she let me-”  
“Let you what? Die? Go back to Adam? If you think Yang would let you do either of those, just go. I won’t stop you.” Ruby’s words cut deep, but she can tell they hit the right nerve. “I’m not… I’m not asking you to stay. I’m telling you that Yang loves you. More than me, more than our mothers.” The bag hits the floor, shortly followed by Blake herself.  
“Ruby.” Golden eyes gaze up into silver, finally focusing for the first time in days. “I don’t know. How to tell her. How to justify what she lost for me, how I feel about her, how-”  
“You don’t have to say it.” Ruby replies, so soft it reminds the faunus of Summer. “Just be there when she wakes up.” As the last of Blake’s resistance crumbles, Ruby steps forward, offering her skirt for her friend to cry into and linking her arms around her back.

Charisma’s always how they get you. Red and black hair immaculately maintained, with a set of slick black horns to match. Yang couldn’t fully mask a laugh at the man’s name. Adam Taurus. _Taurus, like the bull?_ She mocked internally, a name so fake it was hard to take seriously. But my God did he know how to command a room. Years of practice, she assumed. Ten years of always being the centre of attention even when training his prodigies.  
“So, uh… I don’t do this kind of thing often. In fact, this is my first time leading a production, so feel free to tell me what I do wrong, heheh.” The act was convincing, but it was so clearly just that. An act. He was the sort of man who thrived on controlling the room, like people were his game to play. Even with the faux-innocence, she could taste the bitterness of his voice from the back of the room, glancing up from her texts with Blake every so often just to make sure she was following along. At least, that’s what she _was_ doing, until he said something that made her eyes shine red.  
“And so, the woman returns, overjoyed by the man’s acceptance of wrongdoing.” Somehow, the rest of the audience was still enrapt in the description, like what he’d just said hadn’t registered whatsoever. She rattled off a message to Blake;  
_This Adam guy, the one running the show? He’s a total nutcase_

_Adam? Taurus?_

_You know him?_

_He’s… My ex  
It’s a long story, but just promise me you won’t take the offer_

_Okay? But u owe me an explanation later_

_I said I promise. I’m on my way to meet you now anyway._

The blonde tucked her phone back into her bag, tuning into the closing remarks of the grandiose speech,  
“And you’re all hired.” A comment that was met more with stunned silence than the applause Adam seemed to be expecting. Yang waited for everyone else to file out before approaching him to ‘respectfully decline’.  
“Mr. Taurus?” She asked, barely maintaining the veil of manners.  
“Yes, my dear?” He replied, sultry, commanding. Everything about him made her skin crawl as she followed him out into the hallway of the building. Placing one arm either side of her, almost like penning her in. Making sure she can’t escape.  
“I-I’m sorry, but I don’t think this performance is right for me.” Yang faltered slightly. Not because she couldn’t easily fight him, but because she cast her mind back to Blake’s reaction. Sickened. Like she knew too much about the topic at hand. Now she knew why. Even his breathing demanded full attention, unable to tear her eyes from his.  
“Oh. Well, if that’s all, we’ll send out a last-minute call for another applicant! My… apologies for making you wait through such a long speech to find out your decision.” Something about the way he talked only heightened her unease. Everything was about _him._  
“ _Adam!_ ” It was the first time Yang had heard Blake anything other than confident. She wavered, but the anger was incredibly clear. His fists curled against the wall beside Yang’s head while he began to laugh.  
“ _You’re_ with _her!?_ ”  
“Let her go, Adam.” More insistent than scared this time. To her own surprise, as well as Yang’s, he relented, but refused to stop watching the pair as they left. Instead, he opted to watch which car they climbed into, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys for the black supercar parked outside the main entrance. They wouldn’t live to see tomorrow if he had his way.  
_So long live the car crash hearts, cry on the couch, all the poets come to life, fix me in 45!_  
The song blasts through the speakers as they drive. Neither of them has a destination in mind besides “away from Adam,” and that was all they needed, really. Blake watches the city slowly becoming enveloped in a blanket of gold, the setting sun falling directly ahead of them. She looks to Yang, calm as ever in a pair of aviators. With how quickly it went dark, the pair even put Einstein’s analogy to shame. Turns out looking at the woman you love makes years pass in a single blink.  
“ _Yang!”_ She saw Adam’s car charging at them on the crossing.

_And we're not bruised, they're just party tattoos!_ _  
And that colourful mess is just colourful regret!_

Blake had lost track of how many days she’d been doing this ritual for. She moved into Yang’s room to escape the demons hiding in her apartment, and Ruby had been more than accommodating for it. Everything in the room smelled like her, not that she spent much time in there. It never gets easier, seeing her lying supine in the repulsively sterile room. The scent of all the disinfectants makes her gag, reminds her of the crash in the way nothing else could; save for the metallic replacement just above Yang’s elbow.  
“All that stuff I said while you were lying on the road. I really meant it, you know?” She remarks, taking the prosthetic in her hands. Cold. _Unlike the rest of Yang_ , she thinks, her mouth searching for a smile but only finding the strength to make her bottom lip tremble. The faunus bends down, leaving a black lipstick mark on the arm before letting the floodgates open. Silence, save for the tears thudding and soaking into the bedsheets. Sure, Ruby’s words had convinced her to stay, but it didn’t make things any easier. The door is right behind her, waiting, begging her to run away. In any capacity it feels more natural than just sitting around and waiting for Yang’s eyes to flutter open. Occasionally she’d fall asleep with her head rested against the blonde’s leg, dream of her hand gently stroking the top of her head, whispering in a low tone about the things she’d do to her once she got out. About finding a place that was truly their own, that they don’t have to share with Ruby or barely fit on the bed together in. Other times she’d taste the blood again, feel the words sapping away the last of her strength as they mixed with the bitter tears and fell onto Yang’s chest, impossibly far from her face despite being right beside her.  
“What was that about ‘all your dances’?” Yang questions, though her voice is dry, husky and tired. Blake can sense the hand gently massaging the top of her head, making sure not to touch her ears as they twitched to accompany her waking up properly. It’s not as gentle as she’s used to, but it’s still sincere enough to be real. She blinks several times, as though to confirm what’s happening in front of her before placing kisses further and further up her arm, across her collar and finally to her own lips. Tasting her once again, as familiar as ever. Resisting the urge to pour all of her feelings out at once, kissing her again, deeper, and hoping it told the whole story.

_I wanted to leave this all behind, leave you behind. Running is the only thing I’m good at, and staying here wound up getting you hurt. Just… Say you don’t love me back. Make it easy. Prove me right. Prove me right, so I can go._ A metallic arm gently wraps around her shoulder, pushing her back just enough to read Yang’s face, her features as open and honest as always.

_You know I can’t say that. I’d rip out my own heart if it made you laugh. What use is an arm without you there to hold it, kiss it, make it real. What good is anything if I’m not sharing it with you? I can’t let you go, Blake._ She smiles, calm and easy, just like always. All Blake wants to do is run home. To Yang’s embrace. She’s safe in there. And that’s exactly what she does; her arms slip under the blonde’s torso, sinking into the hospital pillow as she lies down beside her.  
“Yang, I-” She chokes on the rest of the sentence, only forcing it out because she deems it necessary. “I almost ran. From you, from _this_.”  
“But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” Yang whispers into her hair, kissing it lightly as the rest of their group piles in through the door for normal visiting hours. She raises her replacement hand at them in a small wave before firmly returning it to Blake’s back. Nora coughs loudly, as though Blake weren’t already aware of their presence from the multitude of footsteps. She stifles a laugh in Yang’s chest before turning over to acknowledge them properly, hand resting over her girlfriend’s like nothing had changed. Perhaps it hadn’t. Maybe some things had changed for the better. Her eyes no longer dart to the door, looking for a way out; they trail over the laughing faces filling the room around them, letting her lips turn upwards into their own smile as stories and subtle jabs are thrown back and forth while she basks in Yang’s warmth. She was safe here. With everyone. With Yang. Ruby shoots her a knowing look, asking without speaking, _are you going anywhere?_ Blake shakes her head so as to dismiss the very notion, looking back up at the face framed perfectly by golden hair, lingering just a little too long on the shape of her mouth before looking back to her younger sister. Ruby can’t do anything besides roll her eyes, fingers interlacing with Weiss’ when she thinks no one’s looking. Blake certainly isn’t going to point it out.


End file.
